


Rose-Tinted Memories: Babysitting Duty

by Audrey_Lynne



Series: Rose-Tinted Memories [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: 80's Gems, Backstory, Communication Failure, F/M, Greg Has Questions, Itty Bitty Amethyst, Pre-Series, Raising Amethyst, Rose is kind of clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey_Lynne/pseuds/Audrey_Lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Volunteering to watch your girlfriend's kid is always a good way to develop your relationship with both of them, and Greg Universe has been enjoying spending time with Amethyst - until an awkward conversation leads him to wonder exactly how old she is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose-Tinted Memories: Babysitting Duty

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wanted to get this up before Greg the Babysitter airs, in case I get totally jossed. But I've had this fun little snippet in my head for awhile. It's set a couple months after "Story for Steven," but before "We Need to Talk." Also, I was able to work some of my headcanons about Greg's background in there, so bonus!

* * *

 

There was a certain unwritten code for cool guys and rock stars, and Greg Universe liked to think of himself as a bit of both. Thus, the albums and music he kept had to be reflective of both his excellent taste and himself as an artist.

 

Like everyone, though, he had his secret vices, records that got shoved under a mattress when people whose opinion mattered were around. When Marty had found “Johnny Horton's Greatest Hits,” Greg had thought he might never hear the end of it. He had managed an almost-pretentious sounding speech about not ignoring one's roots in music, and how researching the way different genres presented ballads was undeniably important as a lyricist. And, while that was true, he knew better than to let Marty know his _real_ reasons for keeping that album. Things had worked out in the end, though; Greg was rid of Marty and he still had Johnny Horton's Greatest Hits stashed in the back of his record collection.

 

It wasn't as if Greg hadn't found the music a bit hokey even as a child. His mother _loved_ ol' Johnny, though, and those records had been played over and over in the home where he grew up. She would grab him and dance sometimes, or hand him a couple of wooden spoons and let him drum along with the beat on the kitchen table. She'd always encouraged his love of music. And, as he got older and began to master _real_ drums and guitars, the pronounced beats helped guide him and his initial practice. When his father told him not to waste his time on a silly dream of making it big in the music industry, his mother had believed he could do it. “The only limits on you are the edges of the universe,” she'd said, every night before he went to bed. He was sixteen when she died, and he kept her albums as a reminder of where he started. His father, never a particularly demonstrative sort, withdrew further in his grief and turned cold – and, so, on his eighteenth birthday, Greg left home and never looked back. He legally changed his last name, both to honor his mother and because it just _sounded_ awesome to introduce himself as Mr. Universe. And thus his journey had begun, in a van he'd gotten a sweet deal on with all his worldly possessions tucked in the back.

 

College hadn't quite panned out as he hoped; he'd gotten a scholarship, thanks to help from his high school music teacher, but he hadn't wanted to argue classical theory with stodgy professors who thought they were always right. So he hired a manager, hit the road, and hoped for the best. Who would have guessed it would have led him to a tiny beach town in Delmarva and a girlfriend from outer space?

 

Greg was still having trouble believing the girlfriend from outer space part at times. As amazing as the months he'd spent with Rose had been, he was still half-convinced he'd wake up in his van with Marty snoring in the front seat and realize it had all been a fantastical dream. But for now, he'd enjoy it.

 

Rose was off somewhere with Pearl – which may have deprived him of Rose's presence, but also kept Pearl out of his hair – and Greg had volunteered to keep an eye on Amethyst. She could be a handful, for sure, but he had mostly figured out how to keep her occupied. She was hyperactive and easily distracted, but she loved hands-on activities. He'd set up a drum set and – with the help of 'ol Johnny and “The Battle of New Orleans” – was showing her how to keep time with the music. She'd gone nuts at first with it, as expected, making nothing but noise, but once she got that out of her system, she was picking it up very quickly. Greg smiled, holding her in his lap, his hands around her wrists guiding her as his mother had once guided him. It was soothing, in a way, and if it earned him brownie points to watch his girlfriend's kid – well, so much the better. They were getting to be great friends, and if his relationship with Rose continued to get serious, that could only be a good thing. He hadn't dated many women with children before, but he knew their children would always come first – as they should have. It could only help his chances to get in good with the kid.

 

The lesson was just finishing up when Vidalia rolled up onto the beach in her junky convertible, and Amethyst's attention was immediately diverted. She bounced out of Greg's lap, hurrying to Vidalia as fast as her tiny legs would carry her. “Hey! Vidalia!” Greg was hardly shocked; Amethyst adored Vidalia and the feeling seemed to be fairly mutual.

 

“Ame!” Vidalia laughed, hugging Amethyst and waving as she came over to Greg. “How've you been?”

 

“Oh, same as usual.” Greg was a little surprised to see her, though; she'd been talking earlier that week about heading out of town with Marty for a bit. What she saw in the jerk eluded him, but he also had to remind himself he'd been under Marty's spell too not so long ago. “I thought you and Marty would have been halfway to Empire City by now.”

 

Vidalia scoffed. “Please. That fool blew me off for some gig selling 'limited edition' watches in Keystone this weekend.”

 

Amethyst frowned. “That sucks!” She brightened immediately, though, tugging at Vidalia's jacket. “Forget him, though. You can have even more fun with us!”

 

“Yeah,” Greg agreed. He made a face, just thinking of Marty. They'd always meant less to him than money. “I don't know why you still keep him around.” He tried not to judge, because he'd put up with Marty far longer than he should have as well, but he also wanted to spare Vidalia from getting further hurt.

 

Vidalia shrugged, her laugh coming out as more of a snort. “Some days, I'm not sure why I do either. But he's a damn good lay.”

 

Greg nearly choked; he found it vaguely uncomfortable to discuss _that_ with Amethyst standing less than five feet away. Hopefully, like most kids, it would go over her head entirely. “Yeah, well, I guess I wouldn't know about that.”

 

Amethyst cackled, playfully swatting Greg's leg with the back of her hand. “You _sure_ about that?”

 

“...What do you mean?” This was absolutely not a conversation Greg was prepared to have with a child. Hopefully she thought it meant something else entirely.

 

“I mean, all those lonely nights in the back of the van...” Amethyst's devilish grin confirmed that she knew _exactly_ what it meant. Which only heightened Greg's discomfort. “I'm not judging you, dude, but if you want to share...we know it didn't mean anything.”

 

Vidalia was laughing, which Greg wouldn't have minded so much if it weren't so disturbing. Fortunately, Garnet's arrival on the beach and her subsequent taking Amethyst off his hands kept the situation from escalating further. He shuddered a bit. “Geez.”

 

Vidalia chuckled. “It's okay if you had Marty first. I won't hold it against you.”

 

“No!” Greg shook his head, making a face. “Definitely not him. And how is this so funny to you, anyway? I mean, shouldn't a kid Amethyst's age be kind of...I don't know, innocent?”

 

Vidalia frowned as well, but then her eyes widened and she tried successfully to hide her smile behind one hand. “I'm pretty sure she's older than you think she is. She's just short. And, yeah, she probably has some kind of ADD, but who cares about that?”

 

“I've seen how she is with Rose, though,” Greg countered. “And Pearl's always carrying her around everywhere and trying to keep her out of trouble.” Garnet, he still had trouble reading, but Amethyst seemed pretty young and playful with her, too.

 

“Maybe she's just different with them.” Vidalia shrugged. “It's always different with family.”

 

“That's true,” Greg said. He perked up as he heard the unmistakable sound of the warp pad, which probably meant Rose had returned. “I guess I could just ask Rose.”

 

Vidalia grinned. “Well, I'll let you do that, then. Have fun.” She waved as she turned to head back to her car. Greg returned the wave, then turned to jog back toward the Temple.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Rose, can I ask you something?” Greg had managed to hold his question until the two of them were settled that evening, just relaxing in his van together with some music. It was always better when he could ask her about – well, anything – without an audience.

 

“Sure.” Rose smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “Anything.”

 

“How old is Amethyst?”

 

“Oh...” Rose pursed her lips, thinking about it, which in retrospect Greg realized probably should have been his first clue that the answer would be entirely unexpected. “About 4,500 years, give or take.”

 

Greg had been comfortable and almost drowsy, but he sat upright at that, his eyes flying wide open. “Did you just say four _thousand_?”

 

Rose nodded. “It's hard to be sure.”

 

Clearly, the Gems were much, _much_ older than Greg would have guessed. “I thought she was, like, five!”

 

Rose made that thoughtful face again, clearly considering it. “I suppose she might be closer to five thousand. Like I said, it's hard to tell, since we don't know exactly how long she was in the Kindergarten before we took her in.”

 

And the story just kept getting more complex. “You adopted her when she was in kindergarten?”

 

“Yes, that's what I said, isn't it?” Rose frowned, but then laughed it off. She really did have a beautiful laugh, though Greg sometimes found himself feeling awkward when she laughed at his questions. “Oh, you're adorable. I think I get it.”

 

“I'm glad one of us does,” Greg murmured.

 

“Amethyst isn't my _actual_ child.” Rose giggled. “I suppose I have been something of a mother figure to her. And she's certainly a very young Gem, so she's happy to play with that dynamic in our little group. She's very fascinated with humans.”

 

“So...she's an adult.” As mind-blowing as it was, it did make Greg feel a lot better about their earlier conversation.

 

“I suppose in your human terms, yes.” Rose nodded. “Does that answer your question?”

 

“I guess.” There was still a lot Greg didn't understand, but he wasn't sure he was ready to process it. And he still wasn't sure what kindergarten had to do with anything, especially if Amethyst was an adult – even a young one. There was plenty of time for answers later, though. Except...one thing. “Wait. If she's super young and she's like five thousand years old...how old are _you_?” He'd rarely have been so bold about asking a lady's age, but in this situation, Greg felt like he could get away with it.

 

“Much older than that.” Rose smiled enigmatically, laughing again. “I'm _so_ glad you and Amethyst have been getting along. She was telling me earlier about your drums.”

 

Greg shrugged to himself, getting the impression Rose didn't want him to ask much more about her past. He didn't know if he was entirely ready for the whole truth anyway. It was easier to talk about music, the beach, and other simpler things. “Yeah, she's actually pretty good. You know, we could always form our own band.” He was mostly joking, but as he thought about it further, it wasn't a terrible idea. “I've got this idea for a music video...”

 


End file.
